kal ho naa ho
by Cynthia03
Summary: Killian Jones meets his new neighbour, the fiery and beautiful Emma Swan, one night and his life is changed. In this journey, Killian realizes how love can be found and lost, and the love already present.


**Hey guys! I'm back with another MC. This is going to be a short one!**

 **This is based on my fave bollywood movie Kal Ho Naa Ho. It's on netflix and its great - I'd recommend everyone to go watch it! (Just don't until I'm done this story or you'll spoil it for yourself!) (The ones who've seen it - you know what's coming!)**

 **Warning: This is a sad story. Major character death (eventually).**

Killian groans into his pillow as the screaming from outside gets even louder – some colorful curses and general expletives being exchanged between a man and a woman. He's still deciding whether he should just ignore them or actually go and check it out – one of the voices _is_ a woman's, after all, and he just wants to make sure it's not some creepy boyfriend or husband making her life hell.

Suddenly, a loud yelp, followed by a couple of grunts and a " _you fucking bitch_ " reaches Killian and he gets up, making up his mind. Clad only in his boxers along with his hair sticking in every direction, he runs and yanks his main door open. The sight that greets him leaves him perplexed, to say the least.

A man with blood dripping down his nose is lying flat on the ground on his stomach. Keeping him down is someone with blond hair, her knee digging into the man's back as she brings his arms around his back to cuff. She has her back towards Killian, and it's only when he lets out a " _Hello_ " does the woman turn.

"Thank god. Call 911 for me, will you?" she asks, turning back instantly to yell something at the man again.

Killian's awestruck – his eyes fixed on the back of her head. He's never quite seen anyone this beautiful. Her eyes are green, like shining emeralds, and her blond curls shape her face with that cute little dimple sticking out on her chin. From his view, he can see the way her biceps bulge as she moves, and also her quite delectable arse poking out towards him.

She turns again, "Did you not hear me? Call 911."

"Right." Killian shakes himself from his admiration, running inside his house to retrieve his cell. She's just locking the handcuffs on the man as he calls 911 to report what he's seeing.

After making the call, he walks towards her, "Are you alright, love?"

"He's the one in handcuffs with a broken nose and you're asking _me_ if _I'm_ fine?" She raises her eyebrow, slight annoyance lacing her tone. But then she pursues her lips and brushes her hair back, heaving a little sigh. "I'm fine."

* * *

"Glad to hear."

Her eyes roam over him – from his hair sticking everywhere, to his really blue eyes, to the dark hair on his chest and the trail disappearing at the waistband of his boxers. He also notices the way her eyes linger at his boxer-clad crotch a tad too long.

"Nice outfit." She smirks, finally looking up.

He raises an eyebrow, "I know, I saw you appreciating it."

She blushes at that, and when the man below her makes a grunted noise, she snaps at him to _shut the fuck up_. Killian smiles, fascinated by how she could go from flirty and blushing to fiery in less than a second.

"Do I get to know the story?" He points towards her and the man's direction in general, "Sounds like quite a tale. Ex-boyfriend or husband?"

"Look at you men," she scoffs. "If a woman is ever fighting a man you always assume it could only ever be personal." She gathers her hair behind her. "I'm a bail bondsperson. I fight low-life sleazy men everyday…sometimes women too."

Killian licks his lips as she works to put her hair up, her biceps bulging and her breasts pushing up against the low cut of her dress. She looks up at him when his eyes are glued to her chest and rolls her eyes. "Eyes up here, buddy."

It's then when Killian notices the gash on the side of her neck, previously hidden by her hair. He points towards it. "Love, you're hurt."

Emma's hand goes up to the wound and a bit of blood trickles onto her hand. She stares at it before she shrugs.

He's about to run inside and get his first aid kit when she suddenly bends and forces the man to stand.

"Where are you going?" Killian asks, confused and perhaps a bit disappointed. He was going to wait until the cops showed up, then would slyly ask her to come inside so he could fix her wound, maybe even convince her to sleep on his couch because it _is_ 2 a.m. And although he's seen enough to know that she can handle herself, he's still a gentleman and cannot let a lady who is injured walk back home alone. (And if he could request her to get breakfast in the morning, that would be an added bonus.)

"Home." She shrugs, giving him a funny look.

"But I told the cops to come here," he says, nonplussed.

She smiles. "I live right next door."

"But Mary Margaret…oh are you Mary Margaret's sister…Swan or something?"

"Yup, that's me. Emma Swan." Emma smiles mischievously, "And you're her obnoxious Brit neighbor…Jones is it?" He nods enthusiastically at that.

She continues with a grin, "The guy I am so close to murdering cause I can hear you from my room every night. Well, most nights at least. Listen, if a woman is moaning _that_ much, she's probably faking it."

Killian leans closer to her. "I assure you, love, they are quite real. Would you like a demonstration?" He notices with some satisfaction her licking her lips and swallowing visibly.

But she smiles flirtily, taking a step forward, her heels making her just his height so their faces are inches apart. "You couldn't handle it". She brushes her knuckles against his chest, deliberately letting her gaze linger there before drifting down to his boxers, licking her lips again and chuckling. She's definitely affecting him, if the slight tent in his boxers is any indication.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice comes out hoarse, his own hand coming to cover hers on his chest.

" _Oh my fucking god_. Save this shit for later," the man groans from behind Emma, making her snap around to him, dropping her hand from Killian's chest. Killian curses him for breaking the moment and he catches the momentary annoyance on Emma's face too, which makes him smile.

"Is Mary Margaret home?"

"No. Why?"

"Then let me help you. You don't want that wound to get infected." He points towards it again, where blood is trickling down and staining the neck of her dress. He wishes to swipe it off where it is slowly descending to the top of her breasts, but although he may spew innuendoes here and there, he would never actually touch a woman without her explicit permission.

Emma bites her lips, staring at her the blood on her neck. And the cut on her forearm. And the cut on her thigh. "Fuck, okay. Come."

He shuts his door and follows behind her, watching as she pulls the man in handcuffs along with her. Once Emma unlocks the door, she forces the man to sit in the corner of the room, away from all the furniture.

He's been in Mary Margaret's apartment a couple of times – helping her move, fixing her A.C, hanging out, sometimes just asking for milk for his coffee. But he hasn't for a couple of weeks as the bar he works at has gotten busy and he gathers that's when Emma moved in.

A knock on the door echoes before either one of them could even say a word and Emma goes to open it, revealing two cops.

"Hey guys. Thanks for coming," Emma says with an ease which could only mean that she knows them already, "I caught this guy a few months ago but he got bail. I don't know how the fuck he found me."

"Thanks. We got this." One of the officers nods at her, giving Killian a once-over and raising his eyebrow at his attire before he grabs the criminal's arm and leaves.

Soon enough, Emma shuts the door and walks to her kitchen, retrieving the first aid kit. Killian makes her sit on one of the high kitchen chairs, grabbing cotton and an antiseptic from the box.

"This will sting a bit," he jokes. She's probably well acquainted with first aid considering her job.

The way she snorts out a laugh makes him believe she did understand that he was just joking. "Will I get a sticker later?"

"Of course."

"And a lolly pop?"

"Perhaps." He winks at her, nudging her knees so she separates them, inviting him to stand between her open legs.

Killian moves the blond curls sticking to her neck, his fingers brushing against her skin, and revels when he notices her breath hitch.

"Tilt your head," he asks her, taking a step forward as she jerks her head to one side, her eyes stubbornly on his face. He brings his fingers around her jaw to keep it steady, as his other lightly pats the wound with cotton. She winces only once and he blurts out a _sorry_ immediately, Emma just telling him to continue with an amused smile.

He dabs the cotton on her wound lightly, blowing air after to make sure it doesn't sting too much. He doesn't realize how close to her he really is until she winces, making him jerk his head towards her only to have his lips be inches apart from hers. He can feel her breathing hard, see the light flush creeping up her neck. See her tongue peeking to wet her rosy lips and the little golden flecks in her green eyes.

Killian clears his throat, his voice hoarse, "It'll probably need changing once more." He puts the bandage over the wound, his fingertips brushing softly around it now, fighting the shy smile threatening to split his face .

She bites her lip as he traces his knuckles down her collarbones, "Hmm."

"Hey, I'm home!" A voice shrills through the room, making Killian jump away from Emma.

"Killian?" Mary Margaret asks as she walks towards them, dropping her bag on the couch.

"Hey, Mary Margaret." He smiles. She stares between him and Emma and finally when her eyes land on Emma's neck, she moves.

"Oh god, Emma! I thought you weren't working!" She approaches her sister, eyeing her wound with slight annoyance.

"I wasn't! The freak stalked me here," she clarifies. After glancing at Killian, she adds "Jones was just helping me with my wound."

Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow at them both, clearly not buying that this handsome Brit was _just_ helping Emma and had no ulterior motives. Or that Emma, who _never_ accepts anyone's help, would just allow him, a stranger practically, to saunter in and fix her wound.

"Alright then. I'm gonna go take a shower." Mary Margaret sing-songs, winking at them both as she disappears inside her room, clearly not wanting to disturb whatever was simmering between the two.

Killian stands there, scratching behind his ear, not knowing what to do.

"You should go home." Emma says, a confused frown creasing her forehead. "Yeah, you should go," she repeats, nodding to herself.

He wants to counter her but it's 2:30 in the morning, he's wearing nothing but his boxers, and he did _just_ meet this beautiful lass, despite feeling some unexplainable connection with her, he doesn't truly know her. With a nod, he heads towards the door, opening it with a sigh and walking out. He can see her following him from the corner of his eye, so he doesn't bother shutting the door.

He wants to turn around before he opens his own door and slips inside. Wants to see if she's still staring at him, wants to smile at her or try an innuendo and watch her roll her eyes. It's taking every ounce of restraint in him to not do so; he doesn't want to appear desperate or worse, give himself false hope about this woman.

"Thanks, by the way." Her voice is hurried, as if she was also looking for a way to just have him look at her.

He turns then, offering her a bright smile. "My pleasure, love."

Killian leans on the wall beside his door, watching as Emma stands in her own doorway, a smile playing on her lips. There's nothing to say, really, but they can't seem to leave, just standing at their doors, staring at each other.

Finally, Killian speaks. "Your bandage needs to be changed. I coul-"

"- You should come tomorrow and do it," she finishes for him, surprised at her own willingness to let him in.

"Alright. See you tomorrow, Swan."

"Well, technically today, Jones." She smirks, loving the way her last name sounds on his tongue.

"Aye," he laughs, "See you today."

With a final nod, Emma straightens up and heads inside, giving him a last look before shutting the door behind her.

Killian stares at her door for a couple more seconds before he smiles stupidly to himself, confused at why he's reacting this way to a woman he just met, and heads to his apartment.

~~xx~~

Killian wakes up with a jolt, his dreams full of her – her beneath him writhing in pleasure, her hands, her mouth on him urging him to move faster. He was just at the brink of release when he was woken by a loud knock on his door.

He shuts his eyes and tries to think of the most unflattering things he could ever conjure – Smee in a tutu, the creepy old guy living just above him, David in a dress, and finally, after adjusting himself, he heads to open his door.

"Fucking _finally_ ," the woman on the other end curses, brushing her long dark hair away from her face as she heads straight to Killian's couch.

She places the coffees on the table and turns towards him, eyeing his bed-hair and boxers, "Still in bed? It's bloody noon."

"Had a late night." He informs her, turning around so she doesn't catch his little blush. He heads to his room to put on sweatpants and a shirt, rolling his eyes as he hears her yelling -

"- WHO WAS SHE?"

"No one." Killian comes back to the couch, slumping down beside her.

She raises an eyebrow, clearing not buying it, and Killian sighs. "All right. Emma Swan. She's Mary Margaret's sister. Well, foster sister. Bloody beautiful."

"Ahh." She nods. "So what are you gonna do now?"

"Well, I'm going to go over tonight to change her bandage, of course."

She laughs at that, curling her legs underneath her as she moves closer to him, her hand resting on his shoulder casually, "Just before you go over, order a pizza for her apartment and when it comes just be like _oops, I thought it wouldn't come this early_ and ask her if she wants some. Girls love it when you offer them free food. And that gives you a chance to spend more time with her."

Killian shakes his head and laughs, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You're bloody brilliant, Milah. What would I do without you?"

"Probably die." Milah shrugs, bumping her shoulder with his as she settles back in the couch.

~~xx~~


End file.
